


plant a tree

by Nixariel



Category: G.I. Joe - All Media Types, G.I. Joe: Renegades
Genre: Multi, Pining, Shameless Self-Indulgence, post-Revelations, so much pining, tHAT MOMENT GUYS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-04
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2018-09-22 01:34:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 3,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9575999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nixariel/pseuds/Nixariel
Summary: But god, I look at you and know.Hell is just another place I guess I’ll goto keep you warm.— and with bloody knuckles, you’d follow me anywhere | p.dScarlett and Snakeeyes;hey isn't it time we started living again?





	1. tell me 'bout the sky, boy

_In the mansion's secret heart:_

Captured and bound, underwater light rippled over him. Then–

Cold.

Snow, crunching under his feet.

_Snow?_

He had made it through the MASS device. The mountain he stood on now was a far cry from the cement and brushed steel of Cobra's lab.

Snakeeyes' head snapped up, to look straight into the camera he _knew_ she'd be watching through.

He'd made it through alive—which meant Shana had given them the code.

Which meant–

Which meant responsible, dedicated, think-of-the-bigger-picture Shana… had just risked the world.

For _him_.

 

_She loves me._

 

It was a stupid thought—of course she loved him, he was her friend, possibly even her best friend after all they'd been through together, they'd put their lives in each other's hands on a regular basis for crying out loud—but still.

 

 _She loves me_.

 

It was enough to set his heart pounding for reasons very different from the armed Bio-Viper at his back.

The next thought: _Now Cobra no longer needs her alive._

He needed to get back there. Now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So help me, I'm a sucker for pairing where one is an idealist and the other is just trying to keep those good intentions from getting them killed. 
> 
> Also: pining.
> 
> (Should I be working on _certain dark things_? Yes. Am I? No.)
> 
> (Procrastinating author procrastinates.)


	2. love, love, to ease my mind

_As they drove away:_

Her father. Of course.

He should have known.

It was why they had split off from the other Joes in the first place. She wouldn't rest until she knew—and that required the MASS device to work.

Guilt had always been a terribly effective motivator for Shana, even though she tried otherwise.

It was stupid of him to see more than what was there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a feeling Snakeeyes almost _enjoys_ making things difficult for himself. Just look at how unnecessarily complicated he made telling Jinx about her father. And telling Scarlett about hers. And communication in general.
> 
> Sign language is a thing, yo.


	3. only ever learned how to run

_After returning in triumph:_

He'd slipped away as the others went with Breaker for debrief. General Abernathy had wanted to hear everything they'd discovered since the explosion in Springfield.

It's not like he could contribute much to a conversation.

Instead, Snakeeyes quietly borrowed a nearby jeep—Lieutenant Faireborn's, if he wasn't mistaken—to go pick up the Coyote.

And his bike.

They'd left Cobra's leadership in chaos; their primary command centre, demolished. The American military would be a safe enough place for the Joes for now. Still, he'd feel better knowing they had a quick escape nearby.

Organizations working on the other side of the law, Snakeeyes had found, rarely stayed scattered for long. Somehow, there always seemed to be someone just waiting to take charge.

And he needed to think.

Shana had her father back. Shana had her life back—all the Joes did.

So where did that leave him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> C'mon. Jacking Flint's ride is _exactly_ the kind of thing Snakeeyes would pull for a giggle, if Very Serious Ninjas let themselves have giggles. At least he doesn't plan on keeping this one.
> 
> (sucks to your ass-mar, Zartan.)
> 
>  
> 
> ~~Yes I enjoyed the Renegade 'verse tradition of making it difficult for Flint to Have Nice Things why do you ask.~~


	4. we ain't heavy

_On the road again—_

Kimi—Jinx—whatever name she was going by these days—would surely take him in. The Arashikage would always have use for a ninja of his skills and under her leadership, that usage would be honourable.

Or he could go looking for Tomi. As much as his once-brother had tried to kill him, Snakeeyes couldn't quite bring himself to hate the man.

There had been good times, too, in amongst the competition. The three of them together had been a quite a terror in the compound.

Plus, the revelation of Hard Master's true killer had clearly shaken Tomi. Who knew what he might get himself into in the wake of that, rubbed raw by guilt and shame? It couldn't hurt for someone to just… _be_ there, every once in a while.

(And if being there happened to include stealing a certain white-shirted asshole's stupid red sash and using it to leave him dangling by the foot from some convenient rafter—well. Snakeeyes never said he wasn't _mad_ at Tomi.)

(That was his _voice_ the arrogant bastard took.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Calling it right now: Jinx totes had a crush on senpai Snakeeyes. (Headcanon that it may or may not switch to Duke—and won't that be a Fun Time for everyone. More thoughts on that [here.](http://nixariel.tumblr.com/post/157978025725/152-on-the-list-of-headcanons-ill-never-get))
> 
> Also, not gonna lie, I love the Arashikage ninja sibs and I firmly believe that one day they will all get over their collective issues to become one big happy only occasionally stabby family.


	5. a coldness in my bones

_—but not for long:_

The thing was… The thing was, he couldn't just follow Shana around for the rest of her life.

Not really.

It wasn't practical.

 

…It was getting too hard.

He'd messed up after seeing her and Duke so close in the cave, her reaching out for the blond in the Coyote. It was careless of Snakeeyes to up and ride away like that. _Unprofessional_.

He just—needed to, was all.

And why shouldn't she turn to Hauser? He was brave, generous, a natural leader.

Handsome.

Sure, there was friction between them at times—a little voice that sounded suspiciously like Tunnel Rat wanted to call it 'chemistry'—but ultimately, Duke had always done right by Shana. He certainly hadn't left her father to be trapped in a wormhole for years on end while she risked her life trying to find out what happened by going after one of the most amoral, insidious criminal empires on the planet.

Now that she had her father back, now that she would have the weight of an official investigation behind her to help take Cobra apart—soon, she would have time to do the things normal twenty-somethings got to do.

Travel. Go dancing. Date.

 

Maybe it wouldn't be Duke. But it would be _somebody_.

It should be a somebody who could give her that.

 

(He'd felt the warmth of her hand on his face through the mask. Her fingers had curled around his. That, and her eyes as she smiled, would have to be enough.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Snakeeyes you pathetic toaster just get over yourself already.  
> Also, are we there yet?
> 
>  
> 
> (I liiiiiive!)


	6. easy now atlas

_Not far into Virginia:_

The Coyote was just where they'd left it. Hidden, in a copse of trees with chameleon mode activated, not too far from what had been a locked but otherwise unguarded maintenance-access to the maglev tunnels. Roadblock had helped him bring his bike inside before they left.

Getting coordinates to an post within a few miles of the de Cobray mansion had been Breaker's doing. They still had the key card Shana's custodial informant had slipped them back in New York, allowing a discreet entrance.

Snakeeyes checked the subtle alarms he always left behind whenever the truck had to go unwatched. None had been touched.

 _Good_.

Hooking the jeep to the back of the Coyote for towing was simple enough. Being as they were no longer fugitives, abandoning a vehicle once he was done now seemed less a useful stall tactic and more—deliberately obnoxious. Even though there'd never be any traces linking its, eh _… displacement_ … back to him.

And maybe they owed Flint a break or two.

His comm buzzed.

" _Snakeeyes? Snakeeyes, you there?_ "

Shana's voice: brisk, straightforward, but not tight. Not an emergency, then.

He tapped an affirmative.

" _Good._ "

There was a long pause—long enough, he nearly tapped again just to see if she was still on the line.

" _I–_ " and Shana stopped again.

The ninja frowned.

" _General Abernathy's cleared us_ ," she finally said. " _There'll be an official hearing, but it's really just a formality. Cobra's American assets have already been frozen._ "

But that was _good_ news. So why did she sound so tentative?

" _Also– It's just–_ " Snakeeyes could hear her drag in a breath on the other side of the comm.

He'd chided her about letting out tells before. Still, Shana always underestimated how good his hearing was.

Or maybe he was just attuned to her in particular. Hard to say.

" _Weshouldtalk_ ," came blurting over the mike.

Snakeeyes blinked.

" _I mean_ ," she corrected, " _you should come by whenever—whenever you're done. To talk. There's been a lot of—things. Changes. Yeah._ "

Shana's voice firmed. " _The general's putting us up in Fort McNair for now. I'll let you know if that changes. Scarlett out._ "

He numbly tapped again.

What was _that_? She'd been… diffident, almost. Unfocused. Was Shana in trouble and trying to send a message?

No. They had protocols set up for that, words to be used if under duress.

Maybe it was just that, with Cobra exposed, Shana no longer had to be so utterly confident in everything she did. She could finally take down the armour she'd donned against a world that dismissed her as tilting at windmills. 

And yet…

He'd gone into any number of well-guarded Cobra facilities with no back-up and minimal intel to get Shana the answers she chased. (Not that she ever needed to know that.)

Yet somehow this _talk_ , whatever it was, was sending a chill down his spine in a way those never had.


	7. angels in your angles

_Back in Washington:_

Shana disconnected the link, fingers returning to worry at a chain that no longer hung around her neck.

Her father—was alive. It wasn't their last argument the locket marked, not anymore. No need to use the reminder as a spur in exposing the company responsible for his loss.

Still, Shana wished her necklace wasn't buried somewhere under the de Cobray mansion along with the MASS device it once held the key to.

Yet Snakeeyes was the problem now. That _look_ , as he walked out the other side of the MASS wormhole, in one piece and breathing. He knew she'd given them the code. He knew she'd done it for him.  
  
  
( _a guess, a gamble that she wouldn't be displacing her father's particles forever—but she couldn't let Snakeeyes die._ )  
  
_  
_ ( _she just couldn't._ )  
  
  
And then he'd upped and vanished without so much as a tap to the comm.

Not that that was unusual; it was the pattern they'd fallen into long before Shana became a fugitive. Snakeeyes would show up one night with a hard drive or a few folders of information for her to add to the puzzle of Cobra, have her run through her _kata_ for areas to work on or set her a new exercise to learn, maybe get a few hours of training in—and then be gone the next day, long before she woke.

But weren't things different now? Cobra had been dealt a devastating blow, one that General Abernathy was prepared to exploit. Shana would finally have the backing she needed to take them down.

 _And_ , added a bleak corner of her mind, _Snakeeyes was no longer bound by a promise to a dead man._

Jinx had said–  
Jinx, the daughter of another dead man he'd made promises to.

 

…He'd just _left_.

 

For the first time in seven years, Shana didn't know what Snakeeyes was thinking.


	8. not a poet's son

_Soon enough:_

The drive back to Washington went by too quickly. He wasn't prepared to see Shana so soon, this _thing_ sitting between them like old secrets.

Snakeeyes dropped off Faireborn's jeep. It bought him all of half an hour. 

He found a parking lot within running distance of Fort McNair where the Coyote wouldn't stick out too badly. Another hour gone.

He checked the gas, the tires, then did the same for his bike. All were ready for a quick getaway.

He scouted out the fort's perimeter, making note of the best ways in or out, how he would attack the place, how he would defend it–

_Enough. **Go.**_

Strange, how much the voice in his head sounded like the Hard Master. 

 

He was here. Shana had asked to see him.  
  


_Go._   
  


Best to let the break be clean.


	9. lit you up like a star (i will follow)

Shana's window was unlocked. Snakeeyes frowned; she'd probably left it like that for him, and there was still a three-storey climb between her and the ground, but it was a risk she didn't need to take. A latch—even if it wouldn't stop anyone worth worrying about—would at least buy her a few seconds' warning.

His face softened as he glanced further into the room.

 _Ah_ , he thought. Her window might not be locked but his student had set up her own style of perimeter alert, as perhaps he should have expected. The armchair in which Shana sat reading was off to one side, out of direct view, where any influx of cold air from the window would catch her attention.

_So clever, my– No. Not mine._

_Not mine at all._

She looked up as he slipped through the window, locking it behind him.

"I made tea," Shana offered, closing her book, "if you're thirsty. There's also sandwiches from the commissary. They're actually not too bad, if you don't mind mayo."

Snakeeyes held back a wince. Shana had many talents, but making tea— _proper_ tea—was not one of them. Coffee was her drink of choice and it showed. He shook his head instead, a quick _no_. Then he looked at her, enough of an angle to it to make the question obvious: _you wanted to see me?_

"Right. That."

His eyes were drawn to movement in her lap as Shana's thumb rubbed distractedly back-and-forth over the embossed title of her book.

Another tell—she was nerving herself up for something.

 _Let it be easy_ , he thinks. He will not make this difficult for her.

Snakeeyes stepped forward—to make a gesture, to touch her hand in farewell, even he wasn't sure—and Shana squared her jaw.

"You should know," she started, gaze steady on the slits in his mask, "that as far as I'm concerned, your promise to my father is fulfilled. I'm safe; Cobra's crippled. If that's what's been holding you here, you're free to go." 

His heart twisted in his chest. There it was: her dismissal. What, after all, had he been expecting?

"But."

Her voice bound him tighter than any rope.

"If you were," said Shana carefully, "if you were to _want_ to stay… General Abernathy's building a team." The line of her mouth softened, turned uncertain. "He's asked me to be on it. The others too, along with some of Flint's taskforce. Ripcord's already calling it—us—the G.I. Joes."

Now, finally, she looked down, freeing him from her eyes.

"I suppose you can already tell my decision," she added, thumb flicking out once more to trace along raised letters.

Without thinking, Snakeeyes took a second step to cover her hand with his own, stilling those restless fingers.

Shana glanced up, startled. He froze.

There was a moment of silence.

Awkwardly—and when was the last time he'd been _awkward_ in his own body?—Snakeeyes dropped to one knee, putting their heads at a more equal height.

Under his grip, Shana turned; her thumb curved against the back of his hand, a touch light and warm as sunlight.

Snakeeyes might have grown roots for all he could move.

Her words stumbled over themselves as they broke free. "I told them I couldn't speak for you. I said they'd have to ask you themselves. Working in a unit like what the general's putting together… This is something new, and things won't be like they were before. I don't even know if you ever really wanted to be part of a team."

A breath.

Slower now, steadier: "But I also told them that they'd be lucky to have you. That there's no one I trust more, or who I'd rather fight beside. Snakeeyes, I–" and here Shana's voice snagged, caught behind the walls of her teeth.

"You're my best friend," she recovered, "and you don't owe me anything. Least of all this. I just thought that you should know you have—options."

Snakeeyes' mind raced.

_Options?_

Shana had been so insistent she didn't need his promise, didn't want it—and in the next breath, offered him the opportunity to go on just as they always had.

…No, that wasn't quite– If he stayed, it would be to hunt down Cobra.

Because he'd chosen to.

Not because Shana couldn't be dissuaded from it. Not because it was the only way to watch out for her. No, it would be because he'd seen the evils they carried out and decided to take a stand against it.

And the same, Snakeeyes realized, went for Shana. Following her now would his own choice, for his own reasons.  
Because he wanted to.

He wanted to.

Snakeeyes gently squeezed her hand: _y_ _es_.

Shana frowned. "You haven't even talked to them yet. You need to work out terms, figure out-"

He squeezed her hand again. _Shana. Yes._

It made her subside, if only for a moment.

Staring down at their linked hands, Shana swallowed. "And you're sure," she asked quietly, "that you're not just doing this because my dad made you make a promise he _never_ should have asked for?"

Snakeeyes tugged just enough to make her look up. Once she could see him, he shook his head: _I'm sure._

Shana gave a slow exhale. "Okay. Okay then."

She glanced at him then, that strange uncertainty back in her face. "I would have missed you, you know," she admitted in that same quiet voice. "Especially if you left without saying goodbye."

And that, right there. That was why.

If she had sent him away, Snakeeyes could have gone. Probably. But of his own will, never to see her again?

He had been wrong before. Not being here—here, where he could help her, see her— _that_ would have been too hard.

He rose to his feet and Shana followed suit. Turning their joined hands over, Snakeeyes tapped twice on the back of hers.

_I'll come back._

Shana smiled. "Going to get proper food?" she teased. "Just because the tea came in a bag, Snakeeyes, doesn't make it bad."

He politely forebore to comment; his exit would be answer enough.

As Snakeeyes opened the window, checking for watchers, he heard Shana ask one last question.

"Snakeeyes… why _did_ you say yes?"

He turned.

Snakeeyes looked at her, just a look, trying to think of what to say—and, unaccountably, Shana blushed.

She _blushed_.

"Never mind," she said quickly, raising her hands in apology. "Sorry, I shouldn't have– It's none of my business. You should go get something to eat. I'm just—going to drink this tea."

Shana vanished into the unlit kitchenette and Snakeeyes just stood there, unsure what to make of it.

She had–  
And then–  
Shana _blushed_.

 

Shana. Blushing.

  

He needed to think about this, and Shana clearly didn't want to talk. Still, it took a moment before he could convince his feet to turn back towards the window.

-/-

In the darkness of the kitchen, Shana tried to slow her pounding heart.

_Stupid, stupid!_

From the main room she heard a quiet _click!_ as Snakeeyes locked the window behind him.

Of all questions to come slipping out—! As if she hadn't been obvious enough already. Snakeeyes had said he would stay; that was what she'd wanted and what Shana should be happy with.

Her best friend. For a very long time before the Joes, her only friend. Reading more into it than that was just teenage silliness—and _that_ was something she'd given up long ago.

No. Shana would be professional, Shana would make it work.

After all, she'd finally exposed Cobra. How hard could this be?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mwa ha ha! I love the girl dearly but Scarlett is juuust genre un-savvy enough to say something that tempting.
> 
> It's been a fun run; I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did.


End file.
